Third Time Lucky (5 page)

A few days later, Alexander’s smile has evaporated as Brandon drives the two of us back to Falconbury House. I’m surprised that he’s been let out so soon, but he’s made excellent progress, according to his doctors, and I also suspect he’s badgered them into releasing him at the earliest possible opportunity.

I also know that the military have called in to debrief him further. In fact, I saw them walking out of his room when I arrived. He didn’t seem unduly bothered by their visit, but you can never tell with Alexander. The doctors have told him he won’t be able to use his arm as he’d like to for quite some time, but if he keeps up an intensive physio programme, he should eventually make a full recovery. But he won’t be back on active service for some time. It could be a slow and frustrating process for him.

Alexander’s left arm is still strapped up and supported with a black sling, although he’s managed to get a shirt on and has a jacket draped around his shoulders. He has a treatment plan from the physio to carry out at home and will also have to attend sessions at a military rehab centre, as well as follow-up appointments over the next few weeks at the hospital.

On
a normal day, Alexander is hardly chatty, and he’s becoming more morose the nearer we get to Falconbury House. By the time we reach the entrance to the park, he’s as silent as the stone pillars that mark the gateway. Every time I risk a glance at him, his face is turned out towards the window. I’m not sure what’s occupying his mind more, concern about his responsibilities at Falconbury or worries about when – and if – he will ever return to active service. I know what’s been occupying mine, ofcourse: the unresolved issues that led to our row last term; will they come to a head again now he’s out of danger?

The last time I was here was for his father’s funeral, on a bleak January day. The trees were bare spiky branches then; now they are cloaked in fresh green leaves. Clusters of yellow primroses are bursting out at the edge of the drive that leads to the house and deer graze in the open parkland at the edge of the woods. Finally the mansion itself comes into view. I also remember the other times I’ve been here before: happy fun times when we’ve ridden and walked the estate together, had glorious sex … and the times when we’ve been at loggerheads. Today, the bright spring sun renders the neo-Gothic facade a little less imposing, as do the hyacinths blooming in the stone troughs that flank the steps to the porch.

‘I haven’t seen those before. They look so pretty,’ I say in an effort to lighten the atmosphere.

‘What?’
He drags his attention away from the car window. ‘Sorry, I didn’t hear you.’

‘I said the flowers look beautiful. Your gardeners have been busy.’

Brandon stops the car in front of the steps.

‘Oh, yes. They must have come out in the past couple of weeks. I don’t remember them from when I left but I had other things on my mind.’

Normally, either Brandon opens my door first or Alexander insists on doing it if I’m not quick, but Brandon obviously thinks his boss needs the help today. He does, but
ouch
, despite the ultra polite ‘thank you’, anyone would think Brandon had given him a poke in the eye.

‘Do you want me to get the bags, sir?’ Brandon asks.

‘I think it would be a great idea. Thanks so much, Brandon,’ I cut in before Alexander can even try to refuse his offer, as I know he would.

Brandon brightens visibly. ‘Of course, Miss Cusack.’ Then he’s off, popping the trunk and hauling out our bags.

With his arm in the sling, Alexander’s obviously struggling to clamber out and I know he won’t accept help. I take my time unbuckling my own seat belt and make a meal of checking I have my handbag so that by the time I’m out of the car, Alexander has managed to unpop his belt buckle and shuffle out without banging his head. I actually had to buckle the seat belt up for
him before we left the hospital, which earned me an icy thanks. I guess he’s already realized that fastening his seat belt is just one of a dozen things he’s going to need help with until he can use his arm again.

‘I could have managed the bags,’ he mutters.

‘Bullshit,’ I say pleasantly. ‘Make life difficult for yourself if you want to, but don’t make the staff’s work any tougher. They already have to put up with you as it is.’

He glares down at me but makes no further objections.

‘Let me give you a hand,’ I call to Brandon as he returns from the front door for another set of bags. However, I’m cut off by Robert almost tripping down the steps in his haste to help.

‘How are you, sir? It’s good to have you back.’

‘Thanks, Robert.’ Alexander does manage a genuine smile for his butler. ‘Has everything been all right while I’ve been away?’

‘Perfectly, sir. There are a few letters for you, but I’ve left them on the desk in your study. If you need assistance in opening them, or with anything else, please call me.’

‘Thanks, I will.’

Our voices are drowned out by barking that echoes around the forecourt. A ball of black fur shoots out of the front door, leaps off the steps and launches itself at Alexander, almost knocking him sideways. Barking ecstatically, Alexander’s Labrador, Benny, nudges his
thighs, sniffs his legs, licks his free hand and for once ignores every command to ‘settle down’. Finally, Benny drops on to the gravel, rolls over and presents his belly for attention.

‘Ridiculous dog.’ Alexander’s tone is stern, but as he rubs the dog’s stomach, I see a glimmer of pleasure on his face – mixed with relief. No matter what Alexander says about the burden of being responsible for Falconbury since his father’s death, part of him must be genuinely happy to be home.

‘That’ll do,’ he says gruffly as Benny snickers with ecstasy. ‘Up you get, boy.’

He straightens up and Benny turns to me, licking my hand and panting.

I rub his ears. ‘Good boy, we’ve missed you.’

The trunk of the car thuds down and Brandon gets behind the wheel again to drive round to the garages behind the house. ‘Better go and get this over with,’ says Alexander quietly. I know he is dreading the fuss that will ensue when he meets the rest of staff.

I take his free hand. ‘Come on, step up to the plate and if you’re a good boy and behave, I may give you a treat later.’

He shakes his head at me. ‘I’m not Benny.’

‘No, and that’s a shame. He does as he’s told. Come on.’

Emma is already at the house when we arrive, having been collected by Brandon earlier today, and has her
friend and one-time partner-in-crime Allegra staying over for company. As we walk into the hallway, she trots downstairs, while Allegra hovers awkwardly. They’re both wearing jodhpurs and riding boots.

‘Alex!’

Emma flings her arms around Alexander, who just about manages not to flinch in pain as she gives him a bear hug. She steps back. ‘Oh God, have I hurt you?’

‘Not much.’ He grins, or possibly grimaces.

She puts her hand over her mouth. ‘Ouch. Sorry. Well, at least your face looks slightly less like Frankenstein’s.’

‘I think you mean his monster’s,’ Alexander replies tartly.

‘Him too, but it’s great to have you home. You won’t believe me but I’ve missed you.’

‘You’re right, I don’t believe you.’

Emma laughs. ‘That’s more like the infuriating brother I know and love.’ She suddenly looks sheepish. ‘Thanks for inviting Allegra to keep me company.’

‘Did I? Hello, Allegra,’ he says meaningfully.

Allegra acted as alibi for Emma last term, during her secret meetings with Henry Favell. Despite Alexander’s greeting, she seems completely in awe of him.

‘Hi,’ she mutters.

‘Allegra and I were just going out for a ride,’ Emma says, as Allegra attempts to shrink into the background. ‘Welcome home, Alex.’

‘Enjoy yourselves,’ I say.

‘Be
careful,’ Alexander warns.

Emma rolls her eyes at him. ‘Of course we will! See you both later. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

As she and Allegra scurry off down the corridor that leads to the stables, Alexander mutters. ‘That leaves us plenty of scope, then.’

Before I can reply, Helen walks briskly up to us. ‘Your room’s ready when you are, sir. Yours too, Lauren.’

Alexander kisses her on the cheek. ‘Thanks, Helen, you’ve been brilliant.’

‘Do you want dinner served in the dining room or in the sitting room this evening? Emma and her friend have decided to have a takeaway so it’s only the two of you.’

‘The sitting room will be fine,’ says Alexander, who hates the formality of the dining room since his father died and would far rather eat off a tray. Not that he may be able to manage that at the moment.

‘I’ll serve at seven, if that’s OK. Shall I have some tea sent to the library in the meantime?’ Helen asks.

‘Can you give us a little while, please?’

‘Of course.’

Upstairs, I push open the heavy oak door to Alexander’s room and the moment we’re through it he says, ‘Lauren? What have you done to Helen to persuade her to use your first name?’

I sit on the bed. ‘Oh, I don’t know … Asked nicely?’

‘That can’t be enough.’

‘It’s
just not my style to be treated like I’m lady of the manor, and especially not when Helen has done so much to help me when you were in hospital. Before you ask, I won’t expect her to do the same with you. That would be too difficult for her.’

He shakes his head at me. ‘Perhaps it’s time a few things were changed around here. I’ve been too busy dealing with the aftermath of Dad’s death and the estate to even think about the future, but it looks like I’m going to have to now.’

I pick at the quilt. ‘Maybe we should sort out a few things from the past first.’

‘You’re probably right, but there’s something I need even more. That we both need.’

I look at him;
really
look at him for the first time since he got out of his hospital bed and arrived back home. With his arm in the black sling and the jacket draped around his shoulders, he has a sombre, formal air that ought to inspire my pity but, frankly, is conjuring up altogether different sensations in me. His hair is tousled because he can’t comb it properly and his insistence on shaving himself has left traces of stubble on his jaw and the odd nick. He looks tired, leaner and on edge but somehow more gorgeous than ever.

‘Come here,’ he says, pulling me to him. ‘I really don’t think I can wait any longer. It’s not good for my health to be in a room with you and not have my wicked way with you.’

I can’t help grinning, and rest my hands lightly on his
waist. ‘Hmm, that’s all very well, but are you sure you’re fit enough? It hasn’t been long since your surgery.’

‘You’ll just have to be careful with me, won’t you?’ he teases, stroking the arch in my back sexily, weakening my resolve.

‘Sure,’ I say, not letting on how much I want him too, ‘but it won’t be easy, you having one arm out of action.’

His eyes smoulder with desire. ‘You love a challenge, don’t you? Now, I suggest that you start removing our clothes, before I do it myself and do some damage. I need to rest after the journey.’

‘Rest?’

‘Of course. I need to lie down.’

‘Oh, really?’

He flames me with a look and even though it’s tempting to walk away just to see his face, I can’t help myself. ‘I seem to remember,’ I say, toying with a button on his shirt, ‘that the last time we were alone together you couldn’t wait to see the back of me …’

I pause, midway, to pop open the middle button of his shirt.

His expression softens. ‘I know and I’m sorry. I was upset and hurt and worried about Emma.’

‘Hmm,’ I sigh and open the button, and the one above, exposing the bruised skin, where the bruises are yellowing now.

Pulling apart the white cotton, I expose his abs and chest. I
really
cannot help myself at this point, sinking to my knees and steadying myself by grasping his
fabulous butt. Then, as softly as I can, I press my lips to his stomach and the muscles of his abs ripple in response. His erection bulges through his trousers.

When I look up, his eyes are intent on me. ‘I’d forgotten how good this feels. When I was banged up in that hole with no idea if we’d ever get out alive, the thought of this was what kept me going.’

Even as his words have an intoxicating effect on me, a tiny part of my mind still urges caution. I’ve had my fingers burned many times with Alexander, and I’m going to have to be very, very careful. But for now I’m focusing on the impressive bulge in front of my eyes, because his physical response is easier to deal with. I pop the top fly button on his jeans. ‘You do know this is going to be tricky …’ I murmur.

‘I know. I suppose we’ll just have to be creative.’

‘I guess so …’ As I say the words, I’m already on my feet and unfastening the next button on his jeans. Instead of the stretchy cotton of a pair of black boxers, my hand encounters bare skin. I flip the other buttons and raise my eyebrows. ‘I see you decided to go commando, Captain Hunt.’

His face is the picture of innocence. ‘It was simpler than putting on boxers.’

‘Oh, really? What did the nurse say about that when she helped you get dressed?’

‘She thought it was a practical solution and said I have to manage however I can for a while. I expect she’s seen it all before. Anyway,’ he breathes, his eyes
never leaving mine as he guides my hand deeper inside his jeans, ‘it’s time you reacquainted yourself with what you’ve been missing.’

‘Perhaps,’ I agree. I no longer have any control over my actions and as I cup him in my hand, he inhales sharply, closing his eyes in ecstasy.

‘We won’t be interrupted this time,’ I murmur.

‘Thank God. I almost passed out with frustration when you left me the other day.’

‘A little self-discipline won’t kill you.’

‘Want to bet? Ah …’ His sigh of delight when I tug his jeans down ramps up my own desire to a new level. His bottom is so muscular and solid under my kneading fingers, I feel shaky with lust.

‘You’d better sit down, Captain Hunt.’

He obeys instantly and sits on the edge of bed with his jeans around his thighs. I kneel at his feet and whip off his shoes. I hesitate briefly, when I slip off his dark silk socks and see the bruised and blistered feet. They are a testament to the action he’s seen recently, and the sight and implication of it both horrifies me and turns me on.